Chapter 2: The Morning After

Saturday, 6:45 AM

The stillness of early dawn wrapped gently around Lin Yue's apartment, like silk drawn across skin—quiet, delicate, deceptive. It was a cocoon of silence punctuated only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant cooing of pigeons. But Lin Yue was already awake.

Well, half-awake.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, immediately greeted by a dull, throbbing ache pulsing behind her temples.

A groan slipped from her lips as she turned over and squinted at the faint light filtering through the curtains. The world wasn't too bright yet, her head too heavy, and her tongue tasted suspiciously like regret and soy sauce.

What in the world...?

Her thoughts felt foggy, her memories stitched together with wine and poor decisions. Her head pounded like a war drum, each throb syncing with the persistent buzz of her phone vibrating somewhere.

Lin Yue groaned, peeling her face from the plush satin pillow. A dizzy wave crashed into her like a freight train.

"Ugh..."

She reached up, fingers brushing against her tangled mess of hair. Once silky and styled, now a bird's nest of chaos.

Lin Yue thought something felt... off.

The cool air prickled against her skin, making her suddenly hyperaware of what she wasn't wearing.

Her eyes snapped open. She looked down.

HUH?!?

Last night's clothes were gone! It was replaced by an oversized men's button-down.

Crisp and pale blue?

Masculine, unmistakably borrowed. And it barely skimmed her thighs.

She tugged at the hem, mortified. Why does it smell faintly like him?

What. The. Hell.

Lin Yue bolted upright. Instantly regretting her actions as a fresh wave of nausea slammed into her.

Her hands clutched her head on both sides and she glanced around the room in groggy confusion.

Thank goodness I'm home. But how did I get home?

Her memory was patchy at best. Just fragments, floating in a hazy fog.

Yaoyao's laughter... a neon sign... clinking glasses...

Wait. Did I...

Did I sing?

No.

No way.

Her eyes widened. Please tell me I didn't.

Think. Think. Think.

What else happened last night?

Her phone buzzed again. With great reluctance, she groped around for it and squinted at the screen.

A barrage of messages from Xu Shiyao:

 "OMG Yueyue I have a video. You're going to die."

 "You were adorable. And also terrifying."

 "Do you remember what you said to Chen Rui???"

 "Should I post it??"

 "Kidding. (Unless...?)"

She groaned again and buried her face in her palm. That did not bode well.

Then the Lin Family Group Chat. Predictably chaotic.

Lin Liang: "Did you sleep well?"

Mother Lin: 🍑😴🐔 (A peach, a sleepy face, and inexplicably... a chicken.)

What does that even mean?!

Lin Hao: "Mother, are you saying Yue slept like a well-fed farmer?"

Lin Liang: "A chicken thief?"

Lin Hao: "A peach-loving insomniac?"

Lin Yue: "It's too early for this."

Lin Hao: "It's 9 AM!!!"

Lin Hao: "Blink twice if you were compromised."

Then her eyes landed on a message she hadn't expected.

Chen Rui

"Morning. Let me know if you're alright. I can send over some herbal soup if you want."

Her breath hitched slightly. What?

...What?

Her thumb hovered over her phone. Why is he texting me like this? Since when does Chen Rui offer soup? Why does he sound... gentle?

She bit her lip, heart fluttering for reasons she didn't want to acknowledge.

And just like that, her hangover didn't feel quite so bad anymore.

Lin Yue stood slowly, each movement more fragile than she wanted to admit. Her legs wobbled slightly, like the aftermath of a dream she hadn't quite shaken off.

She stumbled toward the kitchen, clutching the marble countertop like it was a lifeline. Her reflection in the cabinet's glass panel startled her and made her clutch her chest.

Who is that wreck?

Hair messy, cheeks flushed, shirt collar lopsided.

 Oh right. Me.

Fantastic.

Her limbs still felt like pudding, and her body moved on autopilot—still dazed. Her head still pulsing faintly from whatever her subconscious had dragged her through.

Lin Yue drank a glass of water first, then filled a small pot with water, fingers slightly clumsy, and added slices of ginger, a spoon of honey, and the dried jujube her grandmother always insisted cured "all sins of poor judgment."

She flicked on the stove and leaned against the counter, eyes half-closed, her breath coming slow and heavy. Steam curled in the air, rising in soft spirals, blending with the scent that always seemed to cling to her—clean linen, soft musk, and a trace of last night's perfume.

Familiar. Typical. Grounding. 

She turned and pressed her palm to the cool marble counter again, steadying herself, trying to center her breath. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

She felt like vomiting. Her lungs felt tight, like air couldn't settle right in.

She turns back and stared into the swirling mist, letting her thoughts drift again. Bits and pieces... Yaoyao daring her to drink more. That karaoke machine...

She groaned again.

Did I really ask Chen Rui if something was wrong with me? Please tell me I hallucinated that.

Lin Yue's face flushed. This time, it's from secondhand embarrassment.

And the way Chen Rui looked at her... She felt a pang in her chest.

Wait. Did he say something back? The memory was maddeningly fuzzy.

She remembered Chen Rui's eyes—those warm, dark eyes—and the softness in his voice.

Why was he even looking at me like that?

She gives up thinking too much about it as she prepares her drink and took a sip, then wincing at the heat.

"Never again," she mumbled. "One drink. One. Maybe two. But not four. Definitely not four."

Her hangover ritual began in earnest after that. No workout today—not when her head felt like it was about to break open. Instead, she ran a warm bath and soaked in silence, eyes closed, letting the scent of eucalyptus oil and bath salts soothe her aching body.

Afterward, she moved slowly through her closet, skipping the usual color-coded work wear.

Today called for something softer. She picks up an oversized knit sweater and linen lounge pants in deep navy.

She didn't need to look and feel good today.

Today, she just needed to survive.

Still barefoot, Lin Yue curled into her velvet sofa, the steam from her tea rising like a soft mirage. Her phone rested beside her, unread messages glowing faintly, beckoning chaos.

She stared at the screen, re-reading Chen Rui's message. The longer she stared, the more her thoughts spiraled.

Should she reply? Play it cool? Pretend she hadn't seen it yet?

Before she could overthink herself into oblivion, another message popped up.

Xu Shiyao: "Don't leave me hanging!! What did you SAY to him last night??"

Lin Yue exhaled slowly. That was the real question, wasn't it?

She took a few more sips of tea, then steeled herself and typed back.

Lin Yue: "I don't know yet. Still gathering intel."

Xu Shiyao: "I can't believe this. Our friendship is built on trust and you're BREAKING IT."

Lin Yue: "Brb. Contemplating my life choices."

Lin Yue set the phone down and sighed. Okay. Damage control mode: activated.

First, she needed to figure out what she said that warranted soup from Chen Rui.

Second, she had to brace herself for whatever horror awaited in Shiyao's video.

And third?

She needed to understand why—despite everything and the looming threat of public humiliation, a very traitorous, dangerous part of her... didn't mind that he was the one texting her first.

She didn't mind the idea of Chen Rui worrying about her.

As she looked at her glass walls, the sky remained overcast, a gentle gray that mirrored her mood—quiet, dull, yet brimming with something unsaid.

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Note:

Thank you for reading Chapter 2!!! 💙

This chapter marks a quiet turning point for Lin Yue, where a single night begins to stir deeper feelings within her.

Leave comments or suggestions or anything at all. Any engagement or recommendations will be a great help for me.

Thank you!

- Z